Learning to Heal (12 page)

I exhale and smile. I’m glad her worries are easily fixed. “Well, that can be mended. Why don’t we have her over for Christmas or maybe when you’re off next? I’m sure Jazz wouldn’t mind. We could go out and grab something or I could cook. I’m sure once you really get to know her you’ll realize she’s not so different.”

She returns my smile and dries her eyes that have permanent dark circles under them. I wish she didn’t have to work so hard. I can’t wait to finish college and get a job to help her retire early, or at least quit one of her jobs.

“Okay,” she whispers and stands up. “I’ve already spoke to Terri about my schedule for the week after Christmas. We can do something then.” She comes and kisses my forehead. “I’m going to take a shower then go to bed for a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” I watch her walk down the hall and finish my coffee. I reflect on every moment of last night and then of this morning. What did Mom mean about Chanda and me? She is so wrong about that, but I won’t worry about it. I get up after my coffee is gone and head back to my room for a bit before Grace wakes up, desperate to smell the lingering scent of Jazz’s perfume.

Excitement to see Jazz tonight makes the rest of my day pass by incredibly slow for some reason. I hold on to Grace with one hand and with the other I have a bag with some eggnog and some red poinsettias. Since Christmas is only a week away flowers are hard to find, and I know Jazz loves eggnog. Well, she did around Thanksgiving.

I take a deep breath and knock. After a minute she opens the door, and I smell something delicious and I know it’s whatever she’s cooking. She looks great, too, wearing a pair of worn jeans that have a tear in the knee and a pink off the shoulder sweater. Her hair is up in some kind of ponytail, but I can tell it took time to fix, It’s not a quick hairdo like my mom usually wears. A few strands of white blonde hair frame her face and her bangs are clipped to the side. Man, she sure is pretty.

My ogling is interrupted when she quickly rushes back toward the kitchen and yells for me to come on in and get comfortable. I walk in and see Jazz running around everywhere in the kitchen. Pots and pans are piled in the sink and shredded cheese is scattered on the counter. To look so confident a moment ago, she sure looks like she’s in complete chaos in the kitchen. I sit Grace on Jazz’s new black suede sectional decked out in zebra throw pillows and a blanket lying on the chaise. Looking around I notice the sonogram picture in a black, beautiful picture frame hanging on the wall to match the other photos. She’s also placed a huge, black, oval mirror above the fireplace. Black curtains trimmed in white surround the patio door. She’s been a busy bee.

I place the bag on the black, round table that sits in the small dining area across from the kitchen. Looking around I see no flowers decorating her apartment and feel relieved. I definitely don’t want to overload her with flowers, but I really wanted to get her something. Grace watches the large flat screen TV that already has Mickey Mouse playing. Jazz seems to know Grace already, and I smile widely while I turn my attention back to her in the kitchen. I don’t know what to do now that she’s in front of me. I’ve thought about it all day. Should I just go up and kiss her like I want to, or should I offer to help? Maybe she’s like my mom and hates help in the kitchen. Shit! I can’t just sit here. I stand up and take the eggnog and flowers out of the bag to place them in some water and pour a glass.

“Hey. Would you like some?” I hold up the eggnog and smile her way as she stirs something in the pot.

She glances and her eyes light up. “Heck yeah I do. The glasses are above the sink.” She concentrates again on what she’s cooking.

I clear my throat because I still feel out of place. “So what’s for dinner?” I ask while taking two clear glasses out of the cabinet.

“Well, pretty much the only thing I know how to cook that will actually taste good. Spagebbi.”

I take a sip of the thick cream and try not to choke from her answer but end up spitting eggnog out of my mouth. “Huh?” Starting to laugh, I see her reaction to the eggnog all over the floor and laugh harder. “Did you mean spaghetti?”

She starts to laugh as well and grabs a towel. “Nope. It’s spagebbi for me. Always has been, always will be. It will be this child’s favorite meal, just like it’s mine.” She bends over to wipe up the mess and lucky me gets a nice view of her ass.

I turn quickly when she glances at me and smiles. “Um. Sorry.” I can feel the heat crawling up my neck and face. “It will still taste the same right? I mean, I’m not going to find cheerios or anything else a toddler might mix in their food right?”

“Yeah, actually. I just added the gummy bears so we should be about set.” I turn and see her eyes smiling while she takes a sip of her eggnog. “I’m joking, dumbass. It’s just plane ol’ sauce with mushrooms and onions. But I do add a touch of bitters to it. It’s something my mom taught me. Adds a little tang, which I know for a fact you like.”

I feel myself relax again and smile. “Well, that I can handle. But what the hell is bitters?”

“It’s a strong type of liquor.” She must see my concern of her drinking. “Don’t worry I only add two tiny drops and the alcohol is cooked out of it.” Needless to say I relax.

After we eat and Grace is occupied with her keyboard in the living room, Jazz and I stay seated at the table. I know it’s about to get serious. My hands get clammy while my nerves make their appearance. I’m positive my stutter will appear like it always does in tense situations. I’m terrified that last night was a onetime deal, and I seriously think I’ll go fucking insane if that’s the case. I mean, she’s like my drug now and for her to just take it away after months of wanting will kill me. Taking a deep breath, I sit and wait for her to begin.

Sitting across from Mason I feel like a nervous wreck. When I left his apartment this morning I was a nervous wreck. When I went to the grocery store I was a nervous wreck. So basically I’m an apprehensive pregnant woman who is about to either ruin this relationship or take it to the next level. I’ve been thinking of what to do about the situation all day and it always leads me back to the thing I never thought I would do.

“So, Mason …” I lick my suddenly dry lips and nervously tap my food under the table. “About last night and this morning ... I hope you don’t think I’m someone who does that all the time because I am so … so … so not.” I pause to gain courage before continuing. “I wanted to ask you if you had any reservations of maybe doing it again and maybe we could actually do more. You know what I’m saying? Maybe you don’t because you haven’t said anything since I started talking. Okay, well, what I’m trying to say is how about we become … I don’t know … friends with benefits?” I take a much need breath because I was talking too fast while I examined the plum colored polish on my nails. When I finally bring my eyes up to stare into his wide green ones, I notice he’s just staring at me with his mouth open. A mouth that definitely knows how to kiss and suck and … and … Shit! I feel myself start to blush from embarrassment. Maybe I read him wrong. I know he’s different from other guys, but I thought every guy wanted to have a purely sexual relationship with no obligations.

He blinks and shuts his mouth. “Um. Wow!” He takes his hand and rubs it up and down his face, which causes his hair to turn into disarray.
So sexy
. “Did I just hear you right? Did you say that you want to be friends with benefits, or did I completely misinterpret your very fast speech?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I said. Since you are the
father.
..” air quotes “...I figured why not? This way we can have our cake and eat it too. But if you’re wanting it I have to tell you that there are rules.” I sit up straighter and look into his dark green eyes as he stares intently at me. “We only sleep with each other. If for some reason you want a relationship with somebody else, can you please tell me beforehand?” I ask this and hope the small amount of jealousy that courses through me doesn’t show. I don’t know why it bothers me because I don’t want a relationship with feelings and the crap that can cause pain. I smile and wait for him to agree.

What if he doesn’t agree? What if I just made myself look like a slut or some nympho to a real good friend? I mean, I’m definitely not either one, but lately I’ve been so fucking horny it’s scary. Some days I feel like humping my bedpost. Even masturbation isn’t cutting it these days.

Finally he speaks while leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. Dressed in one of his infamous black logo T-shirts and jeans, he looks yummy. “So you only want sex?”

Do I hear some disappointment in his voice?

“Yes. Plus it will play along well with the false gossip we are spreading around. So you in?”

He takes a deep breath and nods his head. “Yeah, I’m in.” Standing up, he walks my way with that confidence I only see on occasion seeping through. When he reaches me he bends down and scoops me up effortlessly. He’s stronger than what I imagined.

I wrap my arms around his neck and squeal. “What are you doing?” His smile displays his cute dimples and my heart goes pitter-pat. He sure is something to look at. Why the hell am I just now noticing when it’s so obvious?

“Your room. I want to kiss you but Grace is playing in the living room, so I figured we could go in there.”

“Mason, we can’t have sex with your sister here. Geez.” Excitement and nerves set in simultaneously and I can’t decide which I want more. We did just agree to a FWB status and let’s face it, people. My body has been craving his for a while now ... but not with Grace just down the hall. That makes it all seem wrong.

“No shit.” He laughs and I feel the vibrations of his chest against mine. “I said I want to kiss you and I don’t want my sister watching.” Relaxing some, I let the anticipation overtake my nerves and can’t wait to feel his lips against mine again. His smell is intoxicating and makes me dizzy. When he walks into my room, he gently lowers me to my feet and turns me around so we are facing one another. He brings his hands up, much like last night, and pushes an errant hair behind my ear before he tenderly brings his lips to mine.

I purr loudly when his tongue tickles my upper lip, and when I part my lips it invades my mouth. He does the unexpected and growls when I rub my tongue against his and suck it into my mouth. On their own accord, my hands run through his silky hair and pull him harder against me. I can feel the heat of his skin radiating against my body and it only adds to my own fevered skin. We continue this onslaught for a few minutes when I finally remember Grace down the hall.